“Were the talkative to perceive the folly of his chattering, he would save his breath to cool his broth.” Here Powell of Brecon entered a little into the spirit of the scene, by quoting also from the well-known aphorisms of Catwg, applying the passage to Twm himself;—“If the buffoon were to see the vanity of his feat, he would leave it off for shame.” This feeble hit excited the applause of the good-humoured Prothero, who clapped the speaker heartily on the back, and, amid his eternal ho, ho, ho! exclaimed, “Well said, brother, well said; better silence him with wit than by authority; well done, well done!” Our hero now very pointedly directed his quotation against the Breconshire magistrate; “If the lover were to see his weakness, terror would drive him to a premature end.” A general laugh at the expense of Powell, instantly followed. To him that passage was considered peculiarly applicable, as the known unsuccessful woer of the gay widow of Ystrad Fîn. It was a tender string to touch so roughly; losing his ease and temper at the same instant, he cast a most ungracious frown at the utterer of proverbs, and said in an under tone of threatening energy, “Whoever you may be, it were not wise of you to repeat such conduct towards me again.” “Again?” said Twm, pretending to misunderstand him, “Oh, certainly, I’ll give you the passage again, or any other, to please you, ‘If the lover—’” (here Powell’s face blazed with anger, as he clenched his fist, and cried, “You had better not.”) Twm began again,—“If the lover—of war, were to see his cruelty, he would fear that every atom in the sunbeam might stab him as a sword.” This dexterous evasion, with the point given to the words “of war,” had its full effect in restoring the good humour so suddenly disturbed; but that beautiful passage from the aphorisms of the old Welsh abbot failed to elicit the applause which its moral merits deserved: nor could we expect to find decriers of war among farmers and country squires.